


Sky was black, my hair was fire

by spiteandmalice



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Fem!Hux, Femlux, Femslash, Genderswap, Lesbians in Space, Lord Ren is Lady Ren, Rule 63, fem!Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-04-08 12:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiteandmalice/pseuds/spiteandmalice
Summary: Hux removes Lord Ren's helmet. What's revealed is not what she expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Boy Harsher ‘Motion’. 
> 
> Fem!Kylux got stuck into my brain after seeing a certain sketch on twitter and it wouldn’t leave. It seems I also have a thing for hiding your real identity under robes. I can be found @spiteandmalice on twitter if you wish to talk femlux, robes or Millicent.

Hux knows shooting Ren would be a terrible idea, and likely the last idea she ever has but she’s tempted, her rifle is _right there_. Ren is pacing behind her, hands clenched by his side, back and forth, back and forth. Hux ignores him, brushes an insect from her arm and continues to load bullets into the magazine.

Hux has no idea how Ren is wearing his customary layers of robes and armour in this oppressive damp jungle heat, they’ve been off the shuttle for all of fifteen minutes and she’s already dreaming of a cold shower. The troopers on the other side of the undergrowth have herded the final stragglers to the ruin below them. Her comm beeps and intel says there are ten civilians down there, mostly injured, no weapons to speak of besides knives and short-range blasters. She knows cornering an injured animal is dangerous, which is why she’s quite content to be back here lying flat on the edge of a raised rock ridge, watching them through the sight of her rifle instead.

She’s sweaty and far too hot from this disgusting jungle but excited to get her hands dirty for the first time in months, and then this mission will be over. She can be back on the bridge of the Finalizer in an hour in a fresh uniform, showered, tea in hand, her back turned on this pitiful planet. The other side of the planet has already been stripped by the First Order, jungle trees levelled to be sold for supplies, ground already chewed up for mining operations to begin next week. A few bullets are all that stand between her and enough wealth and ore to keep Starkiller Base on schedule for a few months.

She slides the rifle bolt into place and settles down to line the ruins up through her scope.

“Let’s get this finished, Ren.”

She starts to exhale _one-two_ , picks off the man who thinks he’s hiding successfully behind a pillar, finishes exhaling _three-four_ to take out the woman under the arch.

Ren steps up beside her, hands extended and the two men with the bandages on their torsos crumble under his focus. Hux takes out two xenos by the treeline as Ren kills those in the middle chamber.

Hux counts nine dead.

She recounts the bodies again and is about to ask Ren if he’d taken out someone she hadn’t seen when Ren falls to the ground beside her, a large blaster mark gouged deep across his helmet. The man ( _number ten number ten_ her brain stutters out) raises his blaster again and Hux feels a cold wash of terror, knowing she won’t be able to turn her rifle fast enough, even if she could get an accurate shot off at this tight distance. She’s going to be executed here, kneeling in the mud of this backwater planet.

Hux closes her eyes and hears bone crack. When death doesn’t come she opens them to see Ren still lying prone in the mud but has one hand stretched out, the man lying next to him, head twisted unnaturally, clearly dead. It’s suddenly very silent, only the screech of jungle birds left. She pings her locator beacon and kneels beside Ren. There’s a horrible acrid burning smell from the melted helmet panel, but when she touches it Ren swears. Hux lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. He’s not dead. Yet.

Hux runs her fingers over the helmet, trying to find the catches to remove it. She’s never seen Lord Ren without it on, but surely he must remove it to eat? Can he even breathe this atmosphere? The helmet unlocks and Ren moves then, hand scrabbling weakly at Hux’s sleeve trying to stop her.

She braces herself for what is going to be revealed. She had guessed likely human from Ren’s shape and gait, but Force users come in many different species and a carefully programmed vocoder could hide many things.

Including gender, it seems.

The face revealed is definitely human, and definitely female, dark hair slicked back from her forehead in four thick braids, blood running down a striking face from the deep wound on her forehead.

_Oh._

Oh, Ren was going to kill her for discovering this.

Ren glares at Hux but it’s weak, her eyes aren’t focusing on Hux’s face properly and she’s clammy and unnaturally pale, even for someone who always wears a helmet.

“Don’t even think of using this against me” Ren slurs out. “I’ll wipe it from your mind. I’ll-I’ll destroy you.”

Ren’s fingers twitch, as if she’s thinks attempting mind control is a good idea while she bleeds everywhere. Hux pushes her arm down easily.

“Don’t be an idiot. Lie still. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Ren makes a hissing noise, not unlike a lothcat and then she’s fainting, eyes rolling back, her body going limp.

Hux digs through the med pack and finds the high-grade bacta gel and smears it hastily over the gash on Ren’s hairline. She waits until the wound is almost finished knitting together before sliding Ren’s helmet back onto her.

Their transport arrives just as she puts it back on and Hux directs the troopers to bring Ren directly to his- _her_ Hux’s brain whispers- quarters. She has a sinking feeling the moment Ren is awake she’ll be at Hux's door, ready to wipe her mind.

But the expected revenge visit never comes. Hux assumes Ren had lost enough blood or her head had been hit hard enough that she somehow has forgotten what Hux had seen.

Months pass and Hux has not forgotten the incident. She watches Ren stomp around the Finalizer, watches her staff cower and flee from that angry focus when Lord Ren’s missions don’t go to plan. Hux definitely doesn’t think about the glimpse of Ren’s face, compelling and lovely even bloodied and pale; or watch her hips as she walks away. She definitely doesn’t touch herself thinking about Ren scowling at her, or imagine pressing her into the damp ground of that jungle and allowing Hux to thank her for saving her life.

 

Hux is in her pyjamas, steadily getting through a bottle of whiskey when there’s a knock on her door. It’s been a particularly bad day, the first news she had received that morning was of a severe snowstorm that had hit the Starkiller Base excavations overnight, which meant everything was on hold until the snow cleared. They’d have the main foundations done soon which could be covered up for future weather issues, but not yet. Snoke didn’t take the news well, and had slammed Hux to the floor so hard her wrists are purple and blue where she tried to brace herself, and she’s jarred her shoulders.

The knocking continues, Hux glances at her comm where she’s chucked it onto the caf table. The usual notifications are visible but nothing serious enough to require a nighttime visit to her quarters. She rinses her mouth out with mouthwash anyway, smooths her hair back with her fingers, shrugs her robe on and opens the door. She immediately regrets it when Ren pushes past her. Hux sighs and shuts the door. Another Force user here to fuck up her day.

There’s a click and Ren’s helmet comes off, her hair is pinned back, sides shaved short over her ears. She looks far healthier now than she did in the jungle, skin still sun-starved but eyes bright and focused, lips pink and plump. Hux notices the little moles and dark lashes for the first time and goes to pour herself another drink. No matter the reason Ren is here, it’ll be better with another drink. She hasn’t eaten since last shift and her stim pills are still working but Hux pours herself a large whiskey anyway, and tilts the bottle towards Ren in a silent invitation.

Ren shakes her head, then nods.

“Actually I’ll have one, General. It’s been a while since I’ve had my helmet off outside my own quarters.”

Hux senses it’s the truth, Ren is hovering awkwardly, turning her helmet in her hands while she looks over Hux’s quarters, her medals on the wall, the desk dedicated to holoprojections of Starkiller Base’s blueprints. Millicent walks up and Ren crouches to pet her and she rubs herself against Ren’s boots.

Hux knocks her drink back, grimaces at the taste so soon after mouthwash, but refills her glass and brings the bottle and an empty glass over to the low caf table. Hux rearranges her robe around her and sits on her couch, passes Ren the empty glass. Ren fills it and sits next to her on the couch, while Millicent chirps and stretches out under the caf table.

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

Hux shrugs. “Regulations allow it. She was starving when I found her, I gave her some of my lunch and she followed me onto my shuttle.”

They fall into silence then, watching Millicent twist and bat at imaginary foes and Hux sips her drink. She hopes her voice sounds strong when she finally breaks the silence.

“Are you here to wipe my mind?”

Ren blinks at her.

“No? Why would I?”

“I know your secret Ren. Or should that be Lady Ren?”

Ren’s eyes narrow.  “It’s Lord Ren, that’s my title. You’d do well to remember it.”

Hux sneers at the contempt clear in Ren’s voice. “Oh I’m sorry, _Lord Ren_ , Master of the Knights of Ren. Where precisely are these Knights by the way? I’ve never seen them.”

Ren flushes, and briefly looks unhappy.

“The Supreme Leader has sent them away. I’m to train without them until the time is right.”

Hux rolls her eyes and knocks back the end of her drink. “Of course. The Supreme Leader always knows best. So wise. We’re so lucky to have him.”

Ren Force pushes the whiskey bottle away when Hux reaches for it.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink if you’re slandering the Supreme Leader.”

Hux slams the glass down on the table and attempts to shove Ren with both hands. Ren catches her hands easily and when she sees the bruises she looks sympathetic. Hux suddenly hates her; hates her  _knowing_ , hates that she can see every emotion on Ren’s face, hates that she wants Ren to look at her with something other than pity.  

She wants to blame the whiskey, blame Snoke, blame her bad mood, blame Ren turning up unannounced but they’re just excuses. She pulls her hands free and instead tugs Ren towards her. Ren doesn’t move when Hux presses a kiss to her mouth and swings a leg over Ren to straddle her. Ren touches her then, gently holding her hips to keep her from swaying. It’s a start.

“You’re drunk, Hux.”

“I’m fine. I consent. I’m consenting. Just touch me.”

Ren kisses her back then, and her hands tightening on Hux’s hips and it’s been a very long time since anyone has touched Hux outside of a handshake or medical exam and Hux _needs_.

Naturally, Ren ruins it. Hux has started to unfasten Ren’s tunic when Ren speaks.

“You’re so light Hux, do you ever eat anything other than stims and whiskey?”

Hux’s fingers still.

“Get out.”

Ren looks confused.

“But I-”

“Get the fuck out of my quarters. Go. Now.”

Ren picks up her helmet in silence, eyebrows creased, mouth turned down in a frown. Hux pours herself another drink and sits back on the couch, robe re-tied tightly around her, avoiding Ren’s eyes.

At the doorway, Ren turns as if to say something, then leaves without a word. Hux blinks back tears. She shouldn’t have been so upset. She was used to comments about her body; being called too tall, too skinny, her face too narrow and angry, hair too short. Brendol’s colleagues had preferred the smiling daughters with childbearing hips and low-cut dresses who brought the officers at the events he attended fresh drinks and laughed at all their jokes. It was easier to hide her body under a uniform and greatcoat, to smooth out her profile into neat order that commanded respect. It made them call her ‘Hux’ rather than ‘darling’, she who sneered at their compliments and drank them under the table. She wore ‘bitch’ as a badge of honour as much as her general’s stripes.

  


Hux wakes the next morning atop of her duvet, Millicent batting at her hair. She’d forgotten to feed her the night before. She mashes some wet food into Millicent’s biscuits for her in apology. She showers, is briefly sick, then has two cups of caf, a protein bar and three stim pills. She pats a little concealer on under her eyes, slicks her hair back, puts her uniform on. The woman staring back in the mirror is in charge of her life, in charge of a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer.

She isn’t the type to drunkenly kiss mysterious cloaked Force users who turned up on her ship and never left, that’s someone else. She grimaces at her reflection and starts her day.

Ren doesn't visit again, or even acknowledge Hux when they pass in the hallways, but when there’s another significant building delay only a week later and they’re standing side by side in front of Snoke’s hologram Ren lies outright to Snoke, tells him Hux’s plans are on schedule, that everything is fine. Snoke praises them both and when he flickers out Hux turns to Ren.

“You didn’t need to do that, Ren.” She doesn’t need to tell Ren she already had bacta waiting in her quarters for whatever Snoke punishment would dole out.

“You’re not to blame for the weather.”

“I meant... thank you."

Ren inclines her helmet silently in acknowledgement and begins to leave, robes swirling as she turns away.

 _Now or never_ Hux thinks. "And I’m sorry. For what it's worth. For how I acted last week-”

Ren stops walking so Hux continues. “-could we try again? Without the whiskey?”

Ren turns back to her and Hux thinks she can hear a smile in Ren's reply.

“I’d like that general. After this mission then.”

 

A few days later, after far too little sleep and enough stims to make her heart beat a little too fast, she’ll blame curiosity for the reason she logs into the First Order register. Her own entry is dozens of pages long, listing ships she’s lived on, battles undertaken, training hours logged, medical visits. Ren’s, in contrast, has four lines. Her title: _‘Lord Ren’_ , rank/profession: _‘Supreme Leader Snoke’s Apprentice, Master of the Knights of Ren’_ , flight designation, and access list of ships and equipment set to _‘all’_.

Hux assumes Supreme Leader Snoke knows ‘Lord Ren’ is a fiction, that it’s a woman under all the layers and armour. She’s slightly hurt that such a basic piece of information was withheld from her, but she knows Snoke doesn’t trust her. Starkiller Base is her answer to that: trying to make herself more valuable than all the other First Order pawns Snoke controls. She’s not sure it’s working. Ren’s hunting for a map of some kind and Hux isn’t invited to those meetings. She wonders if Ren wears the helmet during them when it’s only her and Snoke.

 

Ren comes to her quarters that night. Hux is about to make tea and go to bed. The helmet is removed once the door is closed and Hux reminds herself not to stare. It’s still a novelty to see Ren’s face.

“You haven’t told anyone about my identity. But I know you looked up the register today. Why?”

“Good evening to you too Ren. And the answer is curiosity. I found precisely nothing I didn’t already know. Even if I had, who would I tell? Do you imagine I take tea with Phasma and we paint our nails and chat? In case you haven’t noticed the only person on-board I actually talk to is you. Everyone else I command.”

Ren shrugs.

“It’s been months. I assumed you’d have at least tried to blackmail me, or attempt to curry favour with the Supreme Leader by telling him.”

Hux snorts. “I’m confident nothing I can do would curry favour with Snoke. The universe’s biggest weapon seems to mean nothing to him, so what’s left? Tea, Ren?”

Ren’s nose scrunches.

“Sorry, what? Tea is left?”

Hux waves a spoon at her. “I meant, do you want tea?”

Ren nods and they both take their tea and sit on the couch and watch it brew. Hux would like to call it a companionable silence, but it’s mostly awkward so she feels compelled to speak.

“Why do you wear it?”

“It?”

Hux waves at hand at Ren’s body.

“All of it. Any of it.”

Ren picks up her tea and sips before answering.

“It’s my uniform, the way you have your greatcoat and stripes.”

“You’re Supreme Leader Snoke’s apprentice and a powerful Force user. Why hide your face?”

Ren doesn’t answer for a moment.

“The most important fact left out of the register is my parentage. My mother is Leia Organa.”

Hux chokes on her tea, eyes welling up as she tries to breathe through the burn of hot fluid going down the wrong way. The whole universe had seen the news holos showing an angry dark-haired teenage girl, saw Organa on every channel tearfully begging her to come home, to let them know she was safe after the attack on Skywalker’s school.

“Snoke thought it easier to hide me if I was just another lost son of the Empire, not the lost daughter of two Resistance fighters. The leader of the Knights of Ren is always referred to as Lord Ren, regardless of species or gender. It fitted. So I became Lord Ren.”

“Surely you have medicals?”

“I go off-world frequently enough if it’s something that needs to be scheduled I can visit a clinic somewhere anonymously and I have a private med droid in my quarters.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why didn’t you alter my memories?”

Ren smirks.

“Maybe I liked knowing you knew. At first, I thought I’d dreamt it, since I woke up in my own bed with my helmet on, but my wound had bacta residue on it. You didn’t say anything.”

Hux had no idea why she hadn’t said something. It wasn’t out of loyalty, Ren was a useful tool, but also a nuisance some of the time and half her crew were terrified of Lord Ren, the other half resentful of the power Lord Ren had.

Ren pulls her gloves off and floats the teapot over to Hux. She takes it and looks up to find Ren watching her. _No wonder she wears the helmet_ Hux thinks, _every emotion is clear on her face_.

“Why are really you here Ren?”

Ren places one hand on Hux’s knee where her robe fans open. She’s got large hands, long slim fingers with short bitten nails. Ren’s taking her up on her invitation to try again it seems. Hux carefully puts the teapot down and places her hand over Ren’s.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Ren?”

Ren grins at that, her whole face lighting up with the action. She’s not what Hux would call classically beautiful, but she’s pretty, and her face is fascinating, faint strange little scars scattered across her face and neck. Up close Hux can pick out the scar left from the jungle. Her eyes meet Hux’s and Hux notes they’re soft and brown and _kriff_ , Hux realises she might be a little in over her head if she’s staring into Ren’s eyes.

Ren leans in and kisses Hux on the mouth. It’s not a particularly good kiss, they’re both being a little too careful with each other for that. Ren’s hand is still on her knee and Hux imagines she can feel every fingerprint burning into her skin. She squeezes Ren’s fingers, _this is okay._

Ren shifts her head and the kiss becomes slick and wet and Hux melts into it. She pulls back and Ren chases her mouth with her own until Hux stops her.

“It’s been a while Ren, can we slow down?”

A while meant almost three years, an anonymous green haired girl on a pleasure planet who Hux fucked in a refresher. Since being in command of the Finalizer she hadn’t slept with anyone. There were plenty of opportunities outside the chain of command: visiting dignitaries, fellow generals and contracted staff to name but a few options. Hux would rather her ship’s staff think she is a sexless automaton that lives to serve the First Order than look at her and see a woman first, rather than their general.

She’d fought long and hard to be seen as something other than a Hux to whelp a litter onto, a prize to be won. There were occasional offers of marriage, after all, she was still Brendol Hux’s only child. The fools didn’t see past the red hair, when they should have really seen the spectre of Rae Sloane hovering over Hux’s every move and promotion. Should have watched out for the knife in their backs, the sniper shot when they least expected it. There’s a lot of reasons she became a general this young and most of them involve death. There's a war on after all.

Ren nods.

“I’m just going to take some layers off Hux, okay?”

Ren stands and unclasps her heavy cloak, the belt and outer tunic. Underneath there’s a light black cotton undershirt, that clings as she bends to unlatch her boots, outlining her body in a way her outer tunic deliberately hides behind stiff quilting. She catches Hux watching and winks.

“Shall I take another layer off?”

Hux is nodding before she realises her head had moved.

With the undershirt off Ren’s body is an expanse of pale skin, broad shoulders leading down to a flat muscled abdomen and wide hips. Her bra was utilitarian, pressing her breasts flatter against her chest, and the material was slightly shiny; likely reinforced armour protecting her lungs and heart. Hux wanted it gone.

Ren sat down again and took her hand.

“You look a little freaked out. I can go.”

Hux found her voice.

“No, no, please stay. I want this.”

Ren kissed her again and Hux pushed her back against the couch and sat in her lap. _Fear be dammed._

She dug her hands in Ren’s hair, snagging her fingers on the pins holding it back. Ren broke the kiss to moan as her hair was pulled, hands sliding to Hux’s waist, nearly encircling it. Ren lent forward and kissed Hux’s exposed sternum, nose dipping under the robe to place a kiss on her collar bone.

“No pyjamas under here General?”

Hux flushed.

“I was about to dress for bed when you knocked.”

Ren hums and continues to kiss along her collar bone, shifting the robe off Hux’s shoulders completely. Hux reminded herself to breathe as her skin was uncovered. Ren wanted her. She wanted this too. Hux focused on pulling the pins out of Ren’s hair, one pin at a time, taking one breath at a time.

Ren kisses down her sternum, warm cheek pressed against the swell of Hux’s right breast peeking over the top of her bra, strong hands easily holding her up.

“Can I?”

Hux nods and shivers as Ren’s hand slide up her back to unhook her bra. Hux steels herself for Ren’s rejection as her breasts are revealed but Ren looks delighted, immediately cupping them, thumbs deliberately brushing against her nipples.

Hux looks away. She’s not sure what emotion she’s meant to be feeling right now. She's not sure if she wants to pull Ren closer or push her away. She's also unsure if Ren really wants her, or if Hux is another pawn in her plans, or a temporary plaything between missions. Ren stops her exploration.

“You’re projecting you know.”

Hux flushes.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. But you don’t seem to realise what I see. Can I show you?”

Hux nods and Ren places fingertips against Hux’s forehead.

There’s a squeezing sensation in her head, almost like the changing of pressure when entering atmosphere in a shuttle and then she sees herself in a series of images, like someone flicking through a datapad at high speed. There’s one of her typing on a console on the bridge; in her pyjamas; smiling at a report of a Republican ship being destroyed; washed out in the blue of Snoke’s hologram with eyes downcast; snow-flecked hair last time she was on planet checking the excavations; a flash of how she is here now, half-naked and enticing. She scoffs. She looks far too happy in most of these, and beautiful. The images go back years. She knows it’s nonsense, in reality, she kept sneezing that time in the snow, had a red nose and a tissue crumpled in the hand at all times. She was tired and drunk in her pyjamas. She's been told her breasts are tiny, her ribs too prominent, her hip bones sharp. They aren’t _real_ images.

“They’re real to me. You’re beautiful.”

Hux has no response to that so she kisses Ren again. They sit like that for a while, kissing until Ren pulls away.

“I have to meet with the Supreme Leader in 20 minutes. I have to go off-world for a few cycles.”

Hux swears and Ren laughs. Ren leaves and Hux flops down on her bed. Millicent takes that as permission to jump onto the bed too, paws kneading the other pillow. Hux lets out a long breath. She didn’t expect Ren to actually want her, she thought it was just a case of easy proximity, that she knew Ren’s secret so Ren was taking advantage. She cups a still bare breast, thinking of Ren’s warm hands and she groans. She slides her other hand into her knickers and she’s surprised how wet she is.

This potential _thing_ with Ren is a bad idea, and Hux knows it. Firstly, she’s Snoke’s apprentice who Hux is stuck working with for the foreseeable future, not a quick fumble she’ll never see again. Secondly, Hux prefers sweet girls she can hold down, not women as tall as she is and three times as strong. But as she circles her clit with two fingers she thinks that maybe different is what she needs. Would Ren be careful with her body or as rough as she was with the experimental TIE fighters she brought back half-wrecked? She comes thinking of Ren smiling at her and she blinks up at her ceiling. Maybe she’s more invested in this than she thought. She wants this to happen. It will happen.

 

Hux forms a battle plan. She’s a general, after all, she commands 80,000 crew and wields power beyond anything her father ever did, even at this young age. She can plan one seduction.

Hux digs out her nicest non-Order underwear, gets her sheets changed to a more seductive silk black set, cuts her nails short, ensures cleaning droids scrub her quarters twice and places fresh flowers on the caf table.

She tries the underwear on and tries to see what Ren does. It’s a collection of black straps and sheer lace panels with some plain stockings. It’s not as fancy as what she’s seen on pleasure planets, or the holonet but she’s pretty sure Ren will like it. She feels anticipation, not nerves and she realises she trusts Ren to see her like this. To touch her. She sends Ren a cropped photo, showing the reflection of her mostly naked back in the mirror and Ren sends a blurry selfie of the side of her face with a thumbs up. It’s not very obvious it’s Ren, it’s terrible quality for one thing but it’s a sign of trust that she allows Hux to have a photo. Hux finds it awfully corny but that doesn’t stop her saving it to her private folder. They message about nothing in particular at first, Hux giving updates on the Finalizer she knows Ren doesn’t really care about, and pictures of Millicent. Ren replies with brief feedback on the brand new TIE Silencer she’s taken for the mission. Eventually, the conversation turns to teasing and flirting, and Hux tenses with anticipation every time there’s an unscheduled arrival on board.

So, of course, Ren doesn’t return for seven weeks. When she comes back on-board most of the Finalizer is sleeping, deep into delta shift. Hux has given up on sleep and the seduction plans have long been put on hold. The flowers have wilted and died, the silk sheets are forgotten, cleaned and left in a drawer. Instead, she’s tucked under the soft peach cotton set she favours, in plain regulation pyjamas, approving expenses, lights turned down low. Millicent is lying awkwardly half on the pillow, half on Hux's shoulder but Hux doesn't mind. There are only a few hours until she needs to be back on the bridge, and she’s already calculated her required stim dose to get through the day when she hears the knock on her door.

Ren looks tired but happy when her helmet comes off, her hair is in a tight tail, folded back to her scalp with a single black pin to fit under the helmet. Hux pulls it loose as Ren removes her own gloves, and Hux presses her face to the dark waves, her arms pulling Ren close. Ren’s body dressed like this feels wrong against hers, too bulky and broad, the waist wide and squared, the shoulders wider than usual. Ren’s hands feel right on her back though, hands warm even through the pyjama top and she realises she really did miss Ren and tells her so.

“I missed you too. I need a shower, care to join me?”

Hux shakes her head. “I need to finish these expense approvals.”

As Ren runs the shower she chucks her datapad on the desk, shoos Millicent off the bed and hunts through her drawers to find the good underwear. She’s still trying to straighten the last stocking when the refresher door opens.

Ren stands in the doorway, fingers clutching her towel as she stares. Hux fights the urge to pull her robe on. She knows her face is bright red, and the blush will be obvious all the way down to her navel in this outfit. _If one could call some sheer fabric and straps ‘an outfit’_ she thinks. She feels silly standing here being watched, and she readjusts the cups, then realises that she went to all this effort but she forgot to remove her dog tags before dressing. She reaches to remove them and Ren speaks, her voice wavering a little.

"No. Leave them on. Please. They’re part of you."

She drops her hand and squirms under Ren’s gaze.

“Is this- is this for me?”

Hux nods. “Can we move this to the bed Ren? I’ve been waiting.”

“As you wish general.”

There are only a few feet between Hux and the bed but Ren scoops her up anyway and carries her over. Hux smoothes Ren’s damp hair back from her face and Ren kisses her nose before unceremoniously dropping her onto the sheets with a little bounce. Hux would scowl at being dropped but Ren’s lost her towel on the walk over so she’s rather distracted.

Ren is gorgeous naked, hair loose and wild around her face and her breasts were as good as Hux had imagined, full and heavy with dark pink nipples Hux wants to lick.

Ren crawls over her on the bed and her gaze is hungry, that of a predator about to bite. Hux feels exposed, vulnerable, despite being the clothed one. Ren shakes her head as if she could read Hux’s thoughts.

“You’re every bit a general here as you are on the bridge. You’re in charge, you know that.”

Hux rolls her eyes but smiles and tugs Ren down for another kiss.

“Can I-” Ren taps a finger on the nearest strap of the underwear.

Hux lifts her back slightly and Ren unhooks the bra segment, twisting the series of straps one at a time. Hux feels like a present being unwrapped for Life Day; all strings and bows to be undone to reveal the prize within. Ren groans in delight when it’s finally off, large hands fully covering Hux’s breasts.

“I missed these.”

Hux reaches out and brushes the side of her hands along Ren’s ribs and Ren shivers. Ren presses her down into the mattress, kissing her neck and Hux takes advantage of her position to tweak Ren’s nipples one at a time. Ren leaves tiny bites along her shoulder in return and Hux wonders if Ren can feel how wet she’s already, tingling and needy.

“...please Ren.”

“As my general commands.”

Their eyes meet and there’s a sudden rushed fumble to get Hux as naked as fast as possible, Ren sliding down the bed to tug down the stockings while Hux makes quick work of the final clasps and straps around her own waist.

Ren is staring hungrily up at her and Hux lets her legs fall apart. Ren doesn’t wait, her tongue pressing in where Hux needs it the most. Hux normally doesn’t bother with receiving oral sex, it usually takes her a while to climax with a partner, they inevitably would tire of the effort, and she’d finish herself off.

Patience was not a trait she associated with Ren, but they’ve waited seven weeks for this so perhaps patience was a virtue after all. Ren works Hux for the best part of thirty minutes with her tongue and fingers until Hux shakes and then an orgasm hits her hard and takes her breath away, stars bursting behind her eyes, toes curling in the sheets so hard they threaten to cramp.

Ren’s mouth is puffy and shiny when she sits up and she looks smug. Hux grins down at her, heart racing.

“If I knew spreading my legs is all it’d take for the fearsome Lord Ren to obey me I’d have done it years ago.”

Ren rolls her eyes and moves up the bed, flopping onto her back next to Hux. Hux kisses her and brushes her fingers over the dark curls between Ren’s legs. Ren arches her whole body, trying to get more friction. Hux pulls her hand back.

“Careful Ren, I thought I was in charge.”

Ren glares at her but there’s no heat there. Her legs are spread wide and Hux can see she’s glistening. She pushes herself up onto an elbow and slides two fingers straight into Ren without hesitation, watching Ren’s face as she scrunches her eyes shut in bliss. Hux fucks her slowly, fingers making slick sounds and Ren whines, a wordless plea for more.

She adds another finger easily and Ren starts to babble.

“So good- so good. Maybe you can fist me next time, you have tiny hands. You- you could sit on my face, make me beg to be used.”

Hux hadn’t thought about the next time, but she finds she wants it, perhaps as badly as Ren does which surprises her. She shuffles down the bed, fingers still deep inside Ren and spreads Ren with her other hand. She finds Ren’s clit and drags the flat of her tongue over it again and again. Ren groans low and her hands find Hux’s hair, fingers tightening around the strands as Hux speeds up her fingers. Ren is dripping now and all Hux can hear is Ren’s panting and the noises her body is making against Hux’s hand. She comes hard, tightening around Hux’s fingers and Hux doesn’t stop until Ren has to push her away, over stimulated and twitching.

Ren looks wrecked and Hux meets her eyes and licks her fingers clean, smirking. The following kiss is a slow gentle thing that only ends when Hux yawns. They move up to the pillows and Ren retrieves the sheets from the floor using the Force and pulls them around them both. Hux is drowsy and languid from the sex, which is normal, but she realises she feels safe. Content. She tucks a strand of Ren’s hair behind her ear and her fingertips brush the scar from the jungle. Such an innocuous little mark that led them to here. Hux yawns again and Ren turns the lights off. Hux waits, and sure enough, after a few seconds of darkness, she hears the soft jingle of a collar tag and then Ren yelps in surprise. Millicent chirps back at her, indignant at being replaced, and decides to curl up behind Hux’s legs, instead of her usual side of the bed that Ren’s now occupying. Ren reaches for her hand and Hux’s eyes drift close as their fingers intertwine.

 

Hux wakes the next morning at her usual time, comm chiming with incoming messages as the 'non-priority' setting switches off automatically with the wake-up alarm. She's alone in her bed and tries not to feel disappointment at that.

“' Morning Hux.”

She startles, Ren's having breakfast, standing next to the conservator, Millicent beside her on the counter, tail swishing, watching in anticipation of any treats. There's a second breakfast tray laid out with an extra large cup of caf.

They eat together in silence, and when Ren leaves she kisses Hux goodbye. Hux showers, dresses, slicks her hair back. When she looks in the mirror this time she smiles at her reflection.


	2. Release my name from your lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, because of Ren’s actions, the entire universe will know that Lord Ren’s helmet hides the lost daughter of the Resistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve fully gone down the Fem!Kylux rabbit hole this summer. So here’s the sequel to ‘Sky was black, my hair was fire’ that no-one asked for. Follows on directly from the events of that fic, via TFA and TLJ.
> 
> Armitage is a very uncommon first name in general, so I'm keeping it.
> 
> I'm on twitter @spiteandmalice.

 

It’s approaching midnight on-planet and Hux and Ren are taking a shuttle to the surface. The major currently in charge of this operation has requested backup and a higher ranked officer to attend. Hux’s got half a dozen colonels who could do this job, but it’s mid-delta shift, and she’s been awake for a cycle and half and is just restless enough she decides to go herself. Tomorrow Starkiller will fire, but tonight this village will provide her with a distraction for a few hours. 

There are lights winking in the houses past the crude barricades the villagers have put up, a signal fire smouldering on the hillside that was left unanswered by their smarter neighbouring villages. Those neighbours are sleeping soundly, bellies full, courtesy of the First Order. 

The Republic has failed these people, democracy has failed. Order is required. A firm hand to steer these people towards success, hard work, prosperity, under the Order’s banner. 

Today that firm hand is a fist. 

Hux has read what the Republic says about the First Order, the Stormtrooper program, and Hux herself. The First Order are fascists; she is a cold, calculated warmonger and the Stormtroopers are brainwashed slaves.

They don't see crying mothers who push skinny toddlers dressed in rags into the arms of her Stormtroopers, begging them to be taken for a better life. Or any life at all. The Republic has never seen how easily people willingly give up ore, oil, weapons and land without question or fight when she offers medication, agricultural tools, seeds.

The children brought on board earlier in the day had been brought to the mess hall after processing. Some had cried, overwhelmed with the choice and supply of food, even though it was the usual five types of ‘trooper slop. 

The First Order might make people kneel before them, but the Republic lets them die on their knees, free and alone. Which is worse? 

Choice is a limited, fragile thing in this galaxy, and the village the transport is approaching has chosen  _ wrong _ . 

 

\--

 

The transport lands and Hux’s team transfers to the waiting command AT-AT that helped secure this valley yesterday. 

The major in charge startles when he sees Hux, and again when he sees Ren behind her, quickly saluting them both. 

“At ease, Major. Why haven’t we moved in?”

“Simply put, we’re outnumbered, General. Any dissentients from the entire valley are currently behind that barricade.”

“Very well. Ren, you are deployed. Finish this.”

Ren dips her head towards Hux in silent acknowledgement and leaves. 

From her lofty vantage point in the AT-AT, she can watch the ‘troopers tight formation split apart one by one to allow Ren to pass through like a wisp of smoke, clicking out of formation and stepping back in, similar to the zip of a garment closing shut. 

There’s an arc of red light from Ren’s lightsaber igniting in the darkness and Hux decides to look away, to pretend to study the holomaps in the centre of the room instead. She’s confident in Ren’s abilities but there’s always the fear she won’t return.  

She digs her nails hard into the palm of her hand, draws blood, and ignores both the pain and the nervously hovering major and waits. 

Ren appears less than twenty minutes later.

“Is it done? How many villagers are left, Ren?”

There's a snap of static from her vocoder then "None."

Hux raises an eyebrow. "You killed the  _ entire _ village."

"You asked." 

A massacre was perhaps an overly dramatic message, but would be one the planet would not forget anytime soon. She did tell Ren to finish it. It’s finished. 

“Very good. We’ll depart major, please send me your report by 1200 hours.”

Ren touches Hux’s hand briefly when they reach the transport and take their seats and Hux bites back a smile, she doesn’t have the luxury of a helmet to hide her face. 

She shouldn't be so pleased that Ren is a weapon, and that particular weapon is  _ hers _ , the same way Starkiller or the  _ Finalizer  _ is.

 

\---

 

In the close proximity of Hux’s quarters, Ren’s discarded robes smell of burn and iron, wet in patches with blood and tinted with dust.

“Put your disgusting robes in a laundry bag and come amuse me, Ren.”

Ren’s attempting to clean her helmet in the ‘fresher sink. Hux is sitting on her own bed, bored and still annoyingly awake. It’s been 43 hours. She hasn’t even taken  _ that  _ many stims this time. 

Ren pauses in her scrubbing. 

“I’m sorry, did you want something? Some of us had work to do tonight.”

Hux resists the urge to stick her tongue out. She must really be tired if she’s thinking of resorting to childish gestures. 

“I’ve filled your laundry forms, but I don’t want to touch them. Was it necessary to get so much gore everywhere?” 

“Yes. It was.”

Ren puts her helmet down to dry, finally satisfied with her handiwork. Hux stretches.

“Let’s shower Ren. I should try to sleep, I want to practice my speech on the podium first thing in the morning, make sure everything is in place.”

“You’ve been preparing for months. You’re ready. Starkiller is ready. Relax, Hux.” 

Ren turns the water shower on, shucks the rest of her clothing and gestures for Hux to get into the cubicle. 

There’s a wide strip of skin on Ren's left wrist that her robes and gloves didn't cover, showing the rusty brown of oxidized blood. Hux wonders how many different lives were spilled over that wrist.

It’s hard to compare the Ren who passes Hux her shampoo bottle with the nightmarish masked creature that cut down a whole village without thought a few hours previous. The Ren who washes away other people’s blood while she laughs and squirms as Hux slides soapy hands over her sides. 

The same Ren who tosses her towel aside when she's barely dried off and pushes Hux onto the bed, onto her back. Ren twists her own hair back into a single thick braid that Hux shivers at, a near-Pavlovian response to what’s about to happen. Ren palms Hux's breasts, squeezing roughly, then nips at her soft belly and sharp hipbones.

She rubs her hands along Hux's legs, brushing the light hairs there, before curling her hands behind Hux's knees and tugging her closer, pushing her thighs apart. 

Any embarrassment Hux ever felt being spread open, in being put on display, is long gone- she only feels a spark of anticipation when Ren grins and dips her head low to taste her.

Ren loves eating her out, is content to lap at her for as long as she needs. She likes to be sloppy about it, bumping her nose into Hux’s clit and flicking her tongue out to lick and tease Hux’s labia. 

She once ate Hux out in her office just before a briefing, tugged Hux's uniform trousers up for her while she was still weak with pleasure, maybe thirty seconds before another general entered the office; then sat next to her, while her helmet was covering her still slick mouth and chin. 

Hux comes and Ren’s looking smug. Hux lies there for a moment, catching her breath while Ren’s clearly waiting for her turn. 

Hux gets to her knees on the mattress and walks two fingers up Ren’s left thigh, then slowly works her open, a swiping tease inside with both fingertips on the first and second pass, but it’s the quick dip in to lightly rub the pad of her index finger against Ren’s clit on the third pass that makes Ren finally snap.

“If f you don’t touch me properly Hux I’m going to-”

“Going to what?”

Ren lets out a slow hissing breath that reminds Hux of the noise Ren’s helmet makes when disengaging. 

“Nothing.”

“That’s right. Good.”

Hux leans over Ren, rewards her with a kiss at the side of her left breast, swipes her tongue across her areola. She scrapes her teeth against Ren’s nipple, not quite a bite and Ren groans, throws an arm dramatically behind her head. 

“It’s been a long night Hux.”

Hux slides a single finger inside, Ren’s particularly wet and Hux feels a weird sense of pride that it’s for her, that she did that to her without even laying a finger on her.

Ren flexes around her, trying to urge her to move, to do something,  _ anything _ . She’s giving Hux her faux sad look, eyes wide, bottom lip jutting out in order to try to gain Hux’s sympathies. 

It won’t work. It never works. 

“Please? It’s a special occasion after all. Tomorrow’s the end of the Republic.”

Maybe it’s working this time. Ren rarely asks so nicely. 

Hux capitulates and fucks into her properly with three fingers, knocking little grunts out of Ren, thumb hitting her clit with each thrust.

“More? Please Hux.”

Three fingers are easy when Ren’s this wet, but then four is slightly tight and Hux is suddenly worried about her thumb and her slender hand’s knuckles suddenly seem huge to her eyes.

“Please, please, please-” Ren has asked for this particular act for the longest time and Hux can't think of a single reason to refuse her tonight.

She pushes in oh-so-slowly and Ren inhales sharply as Hux’s knuckles reach her entrance. 

“Good?”

“I’m good, so good, just please, more, I can take it.”

Hux tucks her thumb against her palm and keeps pressing in, Ren’s so tight around her it’s unbelievable. Hux feels as if she’s in a weird dream. She’s never done this before, perhaps she should have maybe read a pamphlet or something first? 

She’s past the widest part of her hand now.

“I’m almost in.”

She hopes her voice sounds steady but she feels lightheaded and fever hot, like how Ren is so hot around her hand and god, Ren’s just  _ taking  _ it. 

The muscles of Ren’s stomach are jumping with every millimetre Hux moves and Ren looks like she’s on the verge of tears, chest heaving. She’s tweaking one nipple, the other hand clutching at the sheets. 

It’s not much of a push, in the end, to slide the rest of her hand in and Ren moans so deeply Hux nearly withdraws. 

She moves her hand back and forth in gentle thrusts and Ren clenches down as much as she can, her own fingers finding her clit, working it hard. She comes after only a minute, maybe two, moaning Hux's name and Hux can feel every twitch, every ripple of muscle from the inside. 

She withdraws slowly, goes to the fresher and washes her hands. She brings Ren a damp cloth and cleans her. Ren’s sprawled across the bed, still panting, legs still spread wide, looking utterly wrecked. Hux drinks in the sight of her. She did that. She was  _ inside  _ her. 

“You were wonderful, darling.”

She winces at letting a pet name slip out, but Ren doesn’t seem to notice. Hux lies down, and Ren reaches for her. She’s trembling slightly, so Hux pulls the sheets over them both and pets Ren’s hair and whispers nonsense about how good she was until she falls asleep, one arm flung over a spare pillow. 

Hux lies awake for a long time, listens to Ren breathe and re-runs her speech in her mind for the thousandth time. 

Tomorrow is the end of the Republic, and therefore the end of the Resistance. Hux is finally going to do what so many could not; Krennic, Tarkin, Vader, Palpatine. 

She  _ almost  _ wishes Brendol was still alive to see all that’s about to happen.

Her legacy is going to be billions of deaths and she’s absolutely fine with it. 

This is the blow that will turn the tide of the war once and for all. 

 

\---

 

The blow falls, an entire system turns to dust and…the tide turns against Hux. 

All because of a nobody, a scavenger girl from Jakku. 

Starkiller Base is now a hundred billion fragments scattered across the stars and the loss aches inside Hux, an organ cut out, a rotten tooth; it had been her first thought upon waking, the last thing she worried about at night. 

And now, because of Ren’s actions, the entire universe will know that Lord Ren’s helmet hides the lost daughter of the Resistance. 

Hux stood alone outside Ren’s bacta tank in the med bay, watching her float serenely, hair rippling in the fluid, her face bare and scarred and Hux has screamed all her rage at her and received no answers. 

She understands Ren’s need to strike her father down, but why did she go alone to fight the scavenger and traitor? Why had she removed her helmet? Hux’s body ached from dragging Ren through the snow to safety, and now her head aches from unanswered questions.

Hux can feel everything she’s ever achieved slipping away, like grains of sand through her fingers. 

 

\---

 

It’s two hours after Hux’s shift has ended and she’s walking back from having a nightcap in the officer’s lounge. She turns the corner to her quarters and sees Ren standing alone near the starboard viewscreen, body angled towards the vast expanse of nothing outside the ship. She feels a flicker of hope that Ren is here for her. 

It’s the first time in weeks they’ve been alone together, outside of tensely waiting for Snoke’s hologram to appear, standing side by side in silence. Snoke and Ren are united in finding Luke- _ fucking _ -Skywalker and Hux is so tired of it. Tired of throwing resources, ships and troops at finding one old Jedi. If Ren is so determined to sever every family tie she should aim her sights at her mother first, rather than an old man who no one has heard from in years.

Hux has missed Ren, not just in her bed, but to talk to, to eat dinner with. Hux’s quarters are back to being regulation tidy and her bed is cold. Millie still curls up behind her legs, leaving the space where Ren should be empty.

Hux has had just enough whiskey that she’s ready to say whatever it takes to get Ren back when she hears it. That name. 

_ Her _ .

“Rey- I know what you’re feeling. I feel it too.”

Hux feels cold all over, the same wash of horror flowing over her as when she saw Ren slashed and bleeding out in the snow on Starkiller Base.

Ren’s hand reaches out towards something only she can see and Hux flees to her quarters. 

 

\---

 

Hux misses the start of a shift for the first time in her entire career. Someone knocks on her door, but it’s the structured rap of an underling, not Ren, so she ignores it. Millicent tries to butt her head into Hux’s arm and she turns away. 

She sends the bridge crew a vague message about illness while she finishes the last few mouthfuls of the bottle of brandy she started last night, then lets a med droid into her quarters to give her a sedative and she finally sleeps.

She dreams. 

She sees Ren and Rey hand in hand on the sands of Jakku, in matching soft brown Jedi robes, secret smiles on their lips intended only for each other. 

She sees them spar on the sand, a pretext to Ren’s dark head between those tanned thighs. 

She sees Ren give Rey  _ everything.  _

Hux wants to scream, so she does. There’s no one there to hear it.

 

\---

 

_ The Supreme Leader is dead, long live the Supreme Leader.  _

The  _ Supremacy  _ has been destroyed, and the Resistance are on the run. Once again Hux stands beside Ren as they take a transport to the surface of a planet, but this time Ren’s the Supreme Leader. As the gleaming white surface of Crait comes into view Hux feels ill from the inevitability of it all, the lack of control. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

Skywalker appears through the smoke and Hux closes her eyes briefly. They’ve walked right into this, and despite their far superior firepower, she’s afraid.

She knows exactly what will happen. Skywalker will taunt Ren. Ren will get caught up in her rage, snarl a response. She’ll swing her lightsaber as if to smash into him rather than cleave him in two. She’ll let her anger take over, let it blind her from strategy and therefore she’s going to lose to this old pathetic hermit in tattered robes.

Hux is going to have to watch Ren die and there’s nothing she can do about it.

Ren demands they fire on Skywalker, and for a minute the planet’s surface is obscured by billowing clouds of salt and dust as several thousand credits worth of ammunition is fired in a few seconds. Hux tries not to think of the budget at a time like this.

Ren screams for more and Hux tries once more to reason with her. Ren throws her across the console and leaves without another word. 

Hux’s confident she’s broken a rib, but dismisses the offer of medical assistance, refuses to look weak, and instead watches Ren begin her face-off against Skywalker. She doesn’t know this Ren. She doesn’t  _ want  _ to know this Ren, who dispenses violence towards her with such carelessness.

Skywalker flickers, just for a microsecond while Ren’s swinging around, and any other time Hux would have dismissed it as a trick of the light, or maybe tiredness.

She shoves the captain manning the surveillance system aside without asking, winces at the white-hot flare of pain in her chest, and smashes her thumb onto the rewind button. 

She was right. Skywalker had flickered. 

He’s not on the planet at all. 

It’s a distraction.

Hux dispatches fifteen squadrons to the caves and takes a speeder to Ren. 

Ren’s more monster than woman when she arrives, a living fury. 

“What the fuck are you doing here Hux?”

For a second Hux thinks Ren will strike her down and she thinks ‘ _ not like this, please. Not by her hand _ ’. 

Skywalker is looking between them now, expression serene and Hux is suddenly terribly angry she can’t punch him in the face. 

“He’s not here. He’s projecting.”

Skywalker’s lips twitch at that, as if she’s said something funny, and Ren dives for him, swings and hits, over and over and over. He flickers once, twice, then is gone. 

Ren drops to her knees, scuffing blood-red beneath and her saber spits as it hits the surface. 

“I can’t feel him anymore. He’s gone. He’s given himself to the Force.”

“Dead?”

Ren gives her a withering look. “No.  _ He’s given himself to the Force _ .”

“I don’t know what that means!”

Ren stands, puts her lightsaber back on her hip, picks up her cloak. 

“It means the old ways are dead.”

It’s too late for the troopers to catch the Resistance scum, who have fled like the rats that they are, but they might have seen Ren strike Luke down and Hux thinks that could be the final blow that snuffs out the spark of hope the Resistance had been holding on to. 

Their saviour, dead. 

About damn time.

 

\---

 

Ren strides into the officer’s lounge and chatting falls away to murmurs. It’s been weeks, but the crew still look at her bare face with curious gazes. She’d like to believe they’re staring at the deep scar still bisecting her face, maybe staring in fear at the woman who cut down Snoke and Skywalker in the same week. It’s more likely they’re comparing her nose to General Organa’s, or to see if they can catch Padmé Amidala in her eyes. 

She spots Hux immediately, her bright hair making her stand out amongst this sea of bland dark uniforms sitting on bland dark couches.

Hux has a single measure of whiskey in an ornate crystal tumbler in her hand, her knees pressed together, legs tucked neatly to one side. Taking up less space, sipping delicately. It’s a game Hux plays well, upholding a certain standard, ever the consummate professional in public. 

She misses the real Hux, the one she only got to see, the greedy one who begs and demands in turn from Ren: wanting her fingers, her cunt, her mouth, the whole universe- always wanting _more_ _more_ _more_. The one who spills whiskey across Ren's belly so she can lap it off her skin, who has a hand sliding between Ren’s legs before Ren can even begin undressing. The one who will one day have the entire galaxy in the palm of her hand, if only Ren can give it to her. 

...If Hux will accept it now, after everything that has occurred between them. Can't she see Ren is trying? Snoke is dead, Hux is safe from him. Snoke called Hux a rabid bitch once and Ren wanted to kill him for that alone.

She should have struck Snoke down the first time she met him in person; flanked by the Knights of Ren, full of pride at being named Lord Ren, and ready to take on the entire universe. 

She should have been stronger for them all.

Ren feels clarity these days, a purity of thought she never realised was possible. She can feel her Knights again, where Snoke had blocked them, telling her they were a crutch. He was wrong, they’re an anchor, and they hum in the back of her mind, like the sound of wind brushing through a ripe wheat field, or the bubble of a stream.

Rey has rejected her, but that too feels right. Maybe she was a distraction sent to ensure Ren made a choice, to allow her to be able to vanquish Snoke, to break her own chains, to be able to give her love the crown she deserves. 

Surely now the entire universe will have to fall before them?

“General Hux.”

Hux places her glass on a coaster, then stands and salutes, aware every person in the room is watching her. The room is now silent.

“Supreme Leader Ren.”

“I wish to speak to you in my quarters.”

There’s a wave of tension in the room at those words which Ren doesn’t need the Force to sense. She can feel the officers wondering if has Hux finally reached the end of her usefulness. If this was the final time they’d see her alive. 

“Of course, Supreme Leader.”

Hux follows her out of the lounge, a step behind, head down; docile and obedient in a way Ren has never seen her. 

When they reach Ren’s quarters Hux still keeps her distance from Ren, standing at parade rest, hands tucked behind her back.

“How may I help you, Supreme Leader?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“Of course, what do you wish to know, Supreme Leader? There is an upcoming campaign on Ha-”

“I wanted to talk about us.”

“There is no  _ us _ , Supreme Leader.”

“There was. There could be again.”

Hux shrugs. “I live to serve, Supreme Leader.”

Ren bites back her first thought, a nasty jab about Hux serving on her knees that would do nothing to help her cause. 

“Hux,  _ Armitage _ \- please.”

Hux looks away at the use of her first name, and Ren suddenly  _ knows _ she’s still Ren’s and her heart soars. She feels light, unburdened, powerful, free; like she did when she realised she could strike Snoke down and actually succeed, as if the Force is holding her up. Telling her  _ yes _ . This feels  _ right _ . 

“Armitage, I want you to be my Grand Marshal. Be by my side. Lead with me.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer someone else? The scavenger girl perhaps? You could get matching lightsabers, it’d be very romantic.” 

Hux’s eyes are blazing, and Ren basks in her fury, the intensity in her gaze. She’s reminded of the first line of Code of the Sith.

_ Peace is a lie, there is only passion. _

The Sith are dead, but they had some lessons that were universal. She’s been an utter fool.

It’s Hux. It’s  _ always  _ been Hux. 

“No. I want you. Only you.”

She doesn't expect Hux to fall into her arms at that, to declare her love, but she expects a positive reaction. Instead, Hux crosses her arms over her chest, narrows her eyes at Ren.

"I took my blaster out, when I saw you on the floor after Snoke's...death." Death seems to be the most diplomatic way Hux finds to label the neat little coup and murder of her Master rolled into one. "...I wanted to kill you."

Ren shrugs. “I’m surprised you didn’t.”

Hux offers a shrug back. “I’m surprised too. One single shot and I’d have been the Supreme Leader, with the perfect scapegoat lying at my feet. Everyone knows the apprentice kills the master.” 

“That’s the Sith way. I’ve moved past that, become something greater.”

Hux arched an eyebrow. “Really? From here it looks like you have no idea what you’ve become. You’ve left a trail of destruction behind you, assumed the mantle of Supreme Leader, yet are no closer to achieving the goals of the First Order.” 

“I thought if I asked you-”

“You arrogant bitch! You think you can just  _ ask  _ and everything will go back to how it was when you were Snoke’s little pet?”

Ren’s not sure how to counter that, but before she can reply Hux backhands Ren viciously across the face, across her scar. 

“If we lead then we lead together. Equals. And if you ever,  _ ever  _ lay a hand on me again I will gut you myself. Understood, Ren?”

Ren barely has time to nod in agreement then Hux is on her like a wild creature, tearing at Ren's robes, mouth biting at Ren’s in a parody of a kiss. 

Ren can feel the rage and tension coming off her but also her sorrow and affection and she closes her eyes and pulls Hux to her. 

She’s not letting go this time.

 

\---

 

Hux’s coronation is broadcast across fifty-six planets and Ren prays that her mother sees every moment. Hux accepts her crown with the haughty grace of someone who always expected this honour and Ren presses a kiss to her hand in front of the universe, pledges her fealty. Hux answers in turn and they stand together. United. 

Finally. 

 

\---

 

The crowns and elaborately embroidered robes are thrown on the floor and Millicent sleeps on a pile of fabric that’s worth more than most senior officers make it a year.

Ren’s bought new toys for the occasion and she’s in the middle of a test run of a particularly lovely dildo, holding herself easily above Hux and Hux admires Ren’s biceps flexing for a moment, then her fingertips trace the scar left by the scavenger on Ren's shoulder.

“I'm going to kill her, you know.” Hux says conversationally, as if they're taking tea together, rather than being on her back, heels digging into the sheets as Ren slowly eases the dildo into her.

“We'll kill her. All of them. Together.”

Ren grins and it's a terrifying grin, all teeth and glittering eyes, the kind she gave when she heard what Starkiller could do and Hux loves her at this moment, loves every horrible ugly piece of Ren that should scare her, but instead defines her as  _ more.  _ Not a lost daughter of the Resistance, or a First Order weapon, or an ex-Jedi but a legend in her own right, a  _ monster _ that's here in Hux's bed. 

Ren nudges her hips forward and Hux corrects herself in her head. Here in  _ Hux _ , in Hux's bed. 

"Stop thinking when I'm fucking you." Ren snaps.

Hux sneers up at her.

"Do a better job of it then."

“Is that an order, General?”

Ren braces her hands either side of Hux's head and fucks into her with slow, shallow thrusts that make Hux dig her nails into Ren’s back.

They've fucked since being reunited, but it's been desperate and rough, trying to climb inside each other's bodies, to make up for lost months.

This is like old times, as if they have all the time in the galaxy. 

Ren watches Hux come undone underneath her. It feels like a beginning, a rebirth, the same way she felt when she first put the helmet on. Renewed.

_ Peace is a lie, there is only passion. _

_ Through passion, I gain strength. _

The entire galaxy is going to fall before them, this time.

 


End file.
